


I Can Hear You Calling

by UngratefulSatisfaction



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Bad Seduction Attempts, But the plot is porn, Exceedingly horny, M/M, Masturbation, Porn With Plot, Stages of denial about your best friend masturbating to the thought of you, Vanilla, but not kinky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24051202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UngratefulSatisfaction/pseuds/UngratefulSatisfaction
Summary: Guanheng thinks he hears Dejun moaning his name in the shower. Then he definitely sees something he shouldn't. What follows is Guanheng realizing he returns Dejun's feelings, and then trying to seduce Dejun.
Relationships: Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun
Comments: 9
Kudos: 246





	I Can Hear You Calling

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is exceedingly horny from start to finish sorry not sorry. We’re all going crazy in quarantine so here’s some XiaoDery porn, I guess. And I definitely wrote it like there’s plot, but this story only has a plot if you count porn as plot.

Guanheng wakes to Kun’s voice from across the door to the hallway and the shower humming from behind the door to the bathroom. 

“Are you up?” Kun asks one more time. Guanheng groans back something unintelligible. “Get up!” Guanheng rolls around until he manages to say something back.

“I’m up,” Guanheng says. There’s a pause before Guanheng hears him walking away. 

Guanheng rubs at his eyes and sits up. The room is still dark, though his roommate, Dejun is already up and in the shower. Guanheng silently thanks Dejun for keeping the lights off and letting Guanheng sleep for a few more minutes. The music he’s playing is quiet, and Dejun is singing softly.

He gets out of bed, flips the light on, and finds clothes to wear. He showered last night, so he doesn’t have to worry about sharing time with Dejun. That’s another reason Guanheng appreciates his roommate. Ten likes to shower at night, so they always haggled on time and hot water. Guanheng gets dressed.

He flips through messages and social media as long as he can allow himself to before continuing getting ready for the day. Quiet voices filter through the thin walls. The others must be congregating in the kitchen for breakfast. While listening, Guanheng realizes Dejun has stopped singing. The music plays and the shower still runs, though. Odd.

Guanheng walks into the bathroom. He leaves the door ajar, so the steam can escape, and he can use the mirror above the sink. He washes his face and starts brushing his hair. Shampoo scent lingers in the air. An understated acoustic song plays out of the speaker, loud enough to cover the other sounds in the small space.

It’s loud enough to where Guanheng is pretty sure he’s imagining a certain sound in the mix. He pays no mind to it until he hears it again. And again. It’s rhythmic almost, and Guanheng slowly stops trying to fix his hair. 

Is that… moaning? Is Dejun moaning right now? It’s so soft, Guanheng can barely hear it amidst the sounds of water and the music. The acoustic song is followed by a song with a stronger beat and Guanheng can’t hear the moaning anymore. 

He should leave. Guanheng understands. They’re adults, and life is stressful. Dejun can do what he wants, and Guanheng should not be here right now. His hair is still a mess, but Guanheng can throw on a hat and call it a day. They don’t have any public appearances today anyway. 

Guanheng is halfway out the door when he hears, just over the other white noise, Dejun gasp and say “Ah, _Kunhang_ ,” like he can’t hold himself back.

His body goes stiff. He must have misheard that. Yeah, there’s no way he heard Dejun say _his name_ while jerking off. That’s. That’s impossible. No way. 

Guanheng takes the last step into their room and tries to close the door without making a noise. His hands are shaking when he sets the door in place, finally.

He lets out a breath, but his heart is still hammering. The door is heavy enough to block Guanheng from hearing anymore of those incriminating sounds. He takes a moment to gather himself before he can step away. He should go join the others in the kitchen before something else weird happens. That was not how Guanheng wanted to start his morning.

Guanheng doesn’t want to admit it, but he has sort of been avoiding Dejun these past few days. He’s more or less convinced himself that he misheard what Dejun said, that one morning while he showered. But still, Dejun’s light touches no longer feel platonic.

“Is something wrong?” Dejun asks one evening, after their schedule for the day. They’re in their room, Dejun folding laundry and Guanheng struggling to read his Korean assignment. His mind can’t focus on the text in front of him. 

“Huh?” Guanheng decides playing dumb is best.  
Dejun shrugs. “You seem distant recently. And like something is on your mind.” Dejun keeps his eyes on the clothes in front of him, as if he’s too shy to look at Guanheng.

“Oh,” Guanheng says. “There’s nothing really.”

“Nothing on your mind?”

 _Just you saying my name_. “Yeah. Tired maybe. You know how it is.”

“Okay,” Dejun says. “If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

“Of course you are,” Guanheng says. Dejun smiles, but he won’t look at Guanheng. It couldn’t have been a figment of imagination if Dejun is so shy around him like this. They’ve known each other for a while—how long has Dejun acted like this?

Guanheng shakes his head to clear his thoughts. He’d get lost in that maze trying to work it out. He doesn’t even know if Dejun is gay, let alone if he masturbates while thinking about him. To be fair though, Guanheng can’t expect for Dejun to outright tell any of them. Guanheng hasn’t told any of his group members he’s gay. Ten knows because he figured it out with his own intuition when they roomed together, but Guanheng hasn’t told anyone. He doubts anyone would care, but it hasn’t come up. With how busy idol life is, Guanheng hasn’t even thought about how gay he is in a while. What is attraction and what is the concept of ‘boys’?

He stops his thoughts again. At this rate, he won’t get his assignment done. Guanheng sighs and stares at the page.

“Like that,” Dejun suddenly says. Guanheng looks up, meeting his gaze. “You look like something is bothering you. I can practically hear the gears turning in your head.”

“It’s just Korean, bro,” Guanheng lies. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“You learned English,” Dejun says, unconvinced. “English makes way less sense than Korean. What is it?”

“Nothing,” Guanheng says.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Dejun says. “I just wish you weren’t so distant.”

Guanheng doesn’t have an immediate response to that. Dejun looks genuinely frustrated, and Guanheng doesn’t want to make him upset. This whole thing is a mess. A mess Guanheng probably imagined because he misheard something he shouldn’t have heard in the first place. He should forget about it and go back to being Dejun’s friend.

“I’m sorry,” Guanheng says under his breath. “I’ll do better.”

Dejun nods his head. “Thank you.”

They go back to their tasks without another word.

Guanheng heads home much earlier than he thought he would. He tried to go to the movies, but he didn’t realize today is a national holiday, so the theaters are all closed. At least it means there aren’t a lot of people on the metro, so his trip back home is uneventful. 

There also aren’t a lot of people at home. Yukhei and Ten are still in America. Yangyang, Kun, and Sicheng all have some sort of schedule until the evening—the company not automatically giving them a day off contributed to Guanheng assuming today isn’t a national holiday. Though Guanheng has the day free, for some reason.

Maybe it’s some sort of poetic irony, since the only other person who also has a free day is Dejun. Guanheng hasn’t exactly been avoiding him anymore, but he had been hoping that Dejun would decline the offer to go to the movies together. Dejun had declined, which made it easier for Guanheng to subtly avoid him for the day. Except it’s a national holiday and Guanheng doesn’t know what else to do but go home. At least Dejun said he was going to be working on songs all day, so Guanheng can probably get away with avoiding him while also being in the dorm with him. Can’t be too hard. 

Guanheng gets off at the right stop. He walks to the apartment, nodding politely at one of the other residents when he passes her and her kid. It’s quiet, even as Guanheng approaches the door. The quietness is noticeable in a way that makes Guanheng try not to step too heavily or turn the lock too loudly. It barely clicks and he steps inside.

Inside the dorm, Guanheng can’t escape the silence. That means Dejun is probably writing lyrics or using headphones if he’s working with his laptop. Either way, he must be concentrating, and Guanheng doesn’t want to disturb him. 

He slips off his shoes and walks down the hallway, socks padding softly against the floor. It’s early winter, but it’s already cold. Guanheng appreciates the warmth circulating beneath his feet. The comfort distracts him a little, and he shuffles to his room without thinking.

The door is cracked open. Guanheng grabs it to push it open when he hears something push away the silence. He freezes in place when the soft gasp reaches his ears. Guanheng knows he should step away, but his eyes slide up from the floor to stare into the room and find the source of that sound. 

The room is dimly lit, dark except for sunlight filtering in through the sheer curtains. It’s enough light to shine off Dejun’s newly bleached hair, his high cheekbones, the pale gray of his shirt, the twisted sheets outlining his body as he lies on his back, all the way down to his bare thighs, skin pulled against taught muscles as they tense and relax. Guanheng’s eyes go everywhere but down Dejun’s arm—the one not covering his forehead. It’s an unmistakable sight, but Guanheng cannot look at the focal point.

Dejun moans and his hips just barely angle up. Other sounds enter the musky air, no longer just from Dejun’s mouth. His breath quickens and Guanheng cannot leave. He is frozen in the doorway and enormously thankful that Dejun has his eyes screwed shut, is pressing his face into the crook of his elbow. His movements get jerkier and the moans more frequent. He must have less restraint when he thinks he’s alone. 

This is more bad timing, Guanheng thinks to himself. He should leave. He convinces himself to tear his eyes away and continue the lie that these encounters have been a figment of his imagination when Dejun says his name.

“ _Kunhang_ ,” Dejun moans. Guanheng’s heart stops. Has Dejun seen him? No, Dejun’s eyes are still shut. His words have nothing to do with Guanheng standing there, watching him. “Ah, Kunhang, _please_.”

Guanheng is stuck standing there. He cannot step away, not with Dejun moaning like that and saying his name in between breaths. He could lie to himself about some sort of aural illusion with the shower running, but he cannot pretend Dejun isn’t masturbating right in front of him, calling out for him. 

Guanheng can tell from the change in pace and how Dejun’s legs shake that he’s about to finish. The thought of being found out is enough to scare Guanheng away. Finally, he manages to step away from the doorway. 

He makes his way back to the front door as quietly as he can. Dejun grows silent once Guanheng reaches the door. Guanheng waits a moment. The floor creaks from inside their room. Dejun must be getting up. He’s probably cleaning and—Guanheng cuts off that line of thought. There’s no reason to think of Dejun naked when that last image of him on the bed is burned behind Guanheng’s eyelids. Guanheng should focus more on calming down. He flexes his arm muscles until his blood flows more evenly. He waits one more moment before opening the door and closing it loudly.

“Dejun!” Guanheng calls, making sure to keep a steady tone despite his racing heart. “I’m home!” There’s no immediate answer, but Guanheng takes his time going further into the apartment. He stops by the kitchen and grabs a glass of water to stall. His cheeks are still hot, and he feels like he was exerting himself too. But at least he is no longer visibly hard. Eventually Guanheng goes to their room. 

The door is still open, so Guanheng walks in without hesitation. Dejun is on his bed again, but this time he’s wearing joggers and staring intently at his laptop, headphones on. Guanheng pushes the image of Dejun’s thighs out of his mind. 

“Dejun,” Guanheng says. He looks up from his laptop in surprise. Guanheng is fairly certain that the surprise is fake. What better way to pretend you weren’t jerking off to the thought of your friend then to act like you were caught in the middle of work?

“Oh, hey. You’re home early,” Dejun says. Guanheng shrugs. For some reason, he’s drawn to Dejun, and he sits on the bed next to him so he can loosely embrace him from behind. Dejun tenses. “What are—”

“The theaters are closed. I’m sad,” Guanheng says. Dejun relaxes. He laughs and pats Guanheng on the head.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “Maybe we’ll have to have a movie night.”

“Rain check,” Guanheng says. 

“Okay, whenever you feel like it,” Dejun says. “So, why are they closed?”

“National holiday,” Guanheng says. 

“Oh, I hadn’t realized,” Dejun says. He acts disinterested and starts fiddling with the laptop again. His skin is glowing, and his whole body feels relaxed and loose against Guanheng’s. Which makes sense, given that—

Guanheng stops that train of thought and pulls away so he’s only leaning on Dejun’s shoulder. He watches Dejun navigate around the composing program, adjusting things Guanheng doesn’t understand. “What are you working on?” Guanheng asks.

“A song,” Dejun says back. 

“I meant, which song? Is it something you’ve played for me before?” Guanheng asks. Images from before are still at the front of Guanheng’s mind, but he hopes conversation can distract him.

“I don’t think I have,” Dejun says. “It’s more lo-fi then what I normally write, but it’s not a ballad. It’s been difficult.”

“At least you’re pushing yourself. What do you have so far?” 

“The baseline and percussion for the whole song, and then I’ve been messing around with a melody for the chorus.”

“Hmm, play it for me,” Guanheng says. 

“It’s not finished.” Dejun frowns and adjusts a few sliders. 

“Jun, I’m bored. You can show me what you have so far,” Guanheng says, staring with begging eyes.

“But it doesn’t sound interesting with only these parts, you can’t just—ugh, fine. Just stop looking at me like that.” Dejun looks away embarrassed. It’s a common exchange between them and Guanheng wonders how long Dejun has been attracted to him. 

Dejun presses a few more buttons and disconnects the headphones. He clicks something and the music plays from the laptop speakers. It starts with a generic drum loop and a then a bass synth hits on the downbeat every two measures. Guanheng listens quietly until the chorus comes. 

“Sing the melody you were thinking of,” Guanheng says. Dejun gives him an irritated look, but he clears his throat. 

He sings in a comfortable register, softly bringing out a sensuous line. Guanheng wonders if he’s imagining how the phrase falls longingly. The melody steps easily and falls sharply. There are no words, but Guanheng can’t help but think it’s about Dejun’s crush. 

Dejun cuts the song after the chorus. They’re quiet and Dejun looks away from him. “Well?” Dejun asks. He crosses his arms, pushing Guanheng off his shoulder. 

“It sounds similar to ‘Love Talk’,” Guanheng settles on. “But less 90s nostalgia and more RnB.”

“What does that mean?” Dejun asks after laughing. 

“Like, same vibe as ‘Love Talk’, but it sounds more like a generic RnB song.” Dejun frowns.

“Generic?”

“The melody was nice, though. So, if you use that, and then another unique melody in the verse, it would be a good song.”

“Hm.” Dejun doesn’t look happy.

“But your voice seriously suits this style. Even when you aren’t trying, you sound really good.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’m jealous,” Guanheng says. Dejun looks marginally happier.

“Okay, so I have to work on the melody,” Dejun finally says. 

“Yeah, and then you can use the song for your solo debut,” Guanheng says. Dejun shakes his head, a smile on his lips. “Hey, what is this? Are you blushing?” Guanheng reaches to pinch Dejun’s pink cheek. 

Dejun catches Guanheng’s hand in his and pushes him away. “Don’t,” Dejun says, but he’s smiling. His hand lingers for a moment before releasing Guanheng’s, leaving his skin burning hot. “But thank you, Guanheng.”

“No problem. If you ever need a critique, I’m here. Though, it would probably be better to ask Kun-ge.” Guanheng stands. His emotions are confusing, and his body is acting all weird. He should leave before something happens.

“No,” Dejun says in his typical serious tone. “I like your input.”

“I’m glad I could help,” Guanheng says. “I should go. Leave you to your work and figure out something to keep myself busy.” 

“Okay.” Dejun gives him one last look before returning his attention to his laptop. Guanheng leaves, his mind still occupied with Dejun.

It’s been a week since then. Guanheng can’t help but realize he has started seeing Dejun differently. The first time he heard him, Guanheng was freaked out. The second time… Guanheng doesn’t know what to think. When he slept that night, what he saw played through his mind, making it difficult to relax and fall asleep.

Ever since then, Guanheng sees Dejun a little differently. Like when they’ve been working on choreography, Guanheng watches the lines in his body a little closer. Or when Dejun changes clothes in their room, Guanheng can’t help but look out of the corner of his eye. Or when Dejun laughs at something and it sounds like music to Guanheng’s ears. 

Maybe, just maybe, Guanheng is attracted to him too. It started as something more physical, but Guanheng has always liked Dejun. Transferring the platonic feelings to be more romantic wasn’t that difficult. What is difficult, is figuring out what to do with these feelings.

He knows Dejun reciprocates, but how should he go about it? He can’t tell Dejun that he watched him jerk off that one day. That’s too embarrassing. So far, Guanheng has settled on flirting and hoping Dejun takes the hint. 

“Where are you going?” Guanheng asks. The first method of flirting is making sure to spend time with him. Guanheng has been sitting in their room reading a book. He watched Dejun get ready to leave for a while now. 

Dejun stops in front of the door and looks back at Guanheng. He’s wearing athletic clothes, loose pants and a jacket over a tank top. He has a bag slung across his shoulder and Guanheng is pretty sure he knows where he’s going. “Gym,” Dejun says. “Why?”

“Let me go with you,” Guanheng says. He stands, putting away the book he was reading. Dejun looks surprised.

“When’s the last time you went to the gym?” Dejun asks. 

“It’s been a while,” Guanheng says vaguely. “It’d be good to get back into it.” Dejun shifts his weight and frowns at him.

“I don’t want to wait.”

“One minute,” Guanheng says. “I need to change into something more comfortable and grab my stuff.”

“One minute,” Dejun repeats. But Guanheng can tell that he’s happy to have company. So Dejun waits, pointedly looking away when Guanheng strips to his underwear to change. They’re both guys and have been roommates for a while now; Guanheng has never noticed Dejun acting weird until he realized he had a crush on him. Right now, Guanheng doesn’t mind making Dejun a little embarrassed. Guanheng grabs his practice bag. 

“See? Barely a minute,” Guanheng says with a cheeky grin. Dejun opens the door and they walk out of their room. They wave goodbye to Kun and Sicheng in the living room and leave the apartment.

“You’re acting weird again,” Dejun says. 

“Am I?” Guanheng asks. He hooks his arm through Dejun’s. “How so?”

“Like that,” Dejun says.

“I thought you said I was distant?”

“You were, but now you’re weirdly affectionate,” Dejun says. “Can’t you find a middle ground?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Guanheng laughs it off and Dejun doesn’t continue. So he has noticed. Will Dejun do anything about it, though?

They talk about insubstantial things until they get to the building that houses the gym. They walk down flights of stairs until they reach the private room. “There usually aren’t a lot of people this time of day,” Dejun says while they walk in. 

There isn’t anyone today, only up-beat music playing through hidden speakers. Guanheng lets Dejun lead him over to a wall lined with treadmills. “I start with jogging to warm up, then do weightlifting. But you can do whatever.”

“No, I’ll just follow your lead,” Guanheng says. “It’s been too long, so I won’t mind having a personal trainer coaching me through it.” Dejun rolls his eyes. 

Despite not going to the gym, Guanheng does exercise, along with the normal dance practices and activities like that. He keeps up with Dejun easily enough, even when Dejun insists on running for fifteen minutes.

“Are we done?” Guanheng asks when Dejun finally shuts off the machine. 

“Yeah.” Guanheng presses the stop button, thankful when he can finally hit a walking pace.

They walk through the cool down and catch their breath. Guanheng questions if joining Dejun for his workout is worth it. He’s already tired, and it’s only the beginning. “This way,” Dejun says, haphazardly patting him on the back before going past him to where a few mats are laid out. 

“Sit,” Dejun says as he lowers himself to the floor. Guanheng almost vocalizes his gratitude before remembering that he’s trying to at least somewhat impress Dejun. “It’s hot,” Dejun comments before taking off his jacket. Guanheng allows himself one moment to stare at Dejun’s arms, lean muscles that suit his small frame, before looking away.

He follows Dejun through different stretches. They were quiet while they were running, but now they’re more talkative. “Were you really that bored to want to work-out with me?” Dejun asks.

“Nah,” Guanheng says. He can’t come up with a good lie, so he doesn’t continue.

“Then what are your plans for today?”

“I have to finish the latest assignment from our Korean teacher,” Guanheng admits. 

“Hm, do you want to practice? Talk in Korean together for the rest of the day?”

“That’s a terrible idea. Without Ten or one of the others, we’ll just go around and confuse ourselves,” Guanheng says. Dejun laughs at him.

“Yeah you’re right. We can only speak Mandarin together,” Dejun says. “Or maybe…”

“What?”

“We don’t really speak Cantonese,” Dejun says. “Or, we haven’t used it with each other in a while.”

“We have to speak in Mandarin for work,” Guanheng says with a shrug.

“Yeah, but outside of work, maybe we should speak Cantonese with each other.” Guanheng can’t help thinking about Dejun moaning in Cantonese. That’s the last time he heard Dejun use the language. 

“What, do you think you need to practice?” Guanheng asks.

“Well, like you said, we don’t use it too often. But my family speaks Cantonese, so I don’t want to lose it.” Dejun appears to be focusing on stretching, but Guanheng can tell he’s more focused on the conversation.

“Do you speak Cantonese with Xuxi?” 

“No, I just reply to him in Mandarin, regardless of what language he uses with me,” Dejun says. “He’s not even here right now.”

“So you want to practice, Dakjeun,” Guanheng says in Cantonese. Dejun hesitates a moment before responding.

“Yes,” Dejun says. He smiles to himself, like he’s happy Guanheng relented to him. Guanheng doesn’t even mind. Cantonese is more comfortable for him, even if speaking it with Dejun makes him think of dirty things now. 

“If we’re practicing, you need to say something,” Guanheng says. He leans over and pushes Dejun teasingly, letting his hand linger on Dejun’s upper arm. 

“What am I supposed to say to you?” Dejun says. He brushes Guanheng’s hand away, his skin flushed. 

“I dunno, you could always compliment me,” Guanheng says, fluttering his eyelashes at him. Dejun covers his face, his cheeks turning bright red.

“I don’t… I don’t need to stroke your ego,” Dejun stutters.

“Dakjeun, I just want to know that you love me,” Guanheng says. He knows he’s laying it on thick, but there’s something enjoyable about Dejun getting so flustered. Dejun looks away from him and tries to hide a smile.

“I do,” Dejun says eventually. His tone is soft and genuine, maybe even a little sad. “I do, Kunhang.”

“Good,” Guanheng says casually. “So have we stretched enough?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. We’re probably good.” Dejun stands. 

“I don’t know why you were talking about practice,” Guanheng says. “You speak so naturally.”

“Are you flattering me so I’ll compliment you back?” Dejun asks. Guanheng follows him over to the bench press.

“It’s not flattery when it’s true,” Guanheng says. “But I would appreciate you flattering me.” Dejun shakes his head.

“Just spot me, okay?”

“Okay, no problem,” Guanheng says. Dejun puts weight on the bar and Guanheng can’t help but raise his eyebrows.

“What?” Dejun asks.

“Nothing,” Guanheng says. “You’re putting on more than I thought you would. Is this the usual?”

“Yes,” Dejun says, but it sounds like a lie. 

“Ay, are you showing-off cause I’m here?” Guanheng asks. Dejun rolls his eyes.

“Why did you want to come again?”

“Maybe I like spending time with you,” Guanheng says. Dejun looks at him with narrowed eyes but ultimately doesn’t say anything. “How many reps are you doing?”

“Fifteen in sets of three. We can switch after each set if you want,” Dejun says. 

“Sure,” Guanheng says. “Though, I’m content to watch you.” 

“You’re so weird,” Dejun says. Guanheng wonders how heavy-handed he may have to get with his hints. 

Dejun straddles the bench and lays down. Guanheng stands behind the bar and helps him lower it. It’s more weight than Guanheng would want to lift, but he’s capable of spotting and that’s all that matters. He gets lost in thought watching Dejun lift, seeing the pull of his muscles and hearing his breath get heavier. The scene is so analogous to when Guanheng watched him masturbate that Guanheng has to actively try not to get a hard-on. It keeps him distracted for the rest of their time at the gym.

“What are you thinking about?” Dejun asks. They moved onto other machines to work out different muscles and Guanheng is sore. They’re both sweaty at his point. Dejun’s bangs are matted against his forehead, and he keeps combing them out of his eyes. At least Dejun has suggested they end the work out for today. Now they’re doing some last stretches before leaving.

“The blond hair suits you,” Guanheng says instead of what dirty things he’s been thinking about. 

“Thanks,” Dejun says. “Have they said when we’re filming the music video? They’ve changed the hair styles for most of us already.”

“They haven’t changed mine,” Guanheng says with a sigh. 

“You look—I mean, your hair is fine like this.” Dejun shrugs like his words aren’t a big deal. 

“Ah, you think so?” Guanheng asks with a smile. “Do you think I look handsome or something?”

“Sure,” Dejun says with no readable expression.

“Thanks. And they haven’t said when we’re filming, but it will probably be soon.”

“It has to be after Ten and Yukhei come back.”

“Of course.” 

“That should be enough,” Dejun says standing. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.” 

They gather their things and head out. Dejun catches his reflection on the way out, studying his form. “You look good,” Guanheng says. Dejun ducks his head, embarrassed at having been caught staring. “Like, the work is paying off.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” Guanheng says. “I mean, you were hot before but now it’s like a whole other level.” Dejun laughs in the typical way when he gets too embarrassed, but it dies off when he sees how serious Guanheng is.

“What is up with you?” Dejun asks, a tinge of frustration in his voice. “Seriously, you’ve been acting so weird.”

“I’m always weird. Isn’t that what you said?”

“Well, yeah, you are always weird. But recently you’ve been especially weird.” 

“It’s weird for me to compliment you? Like I said, it’s not flattery when it’s true.” Dejun sighs but stops fighting him. They walk back to the dorm in silence. 

Guanheng will definitely have to drop heavier hints. He just has to wait for an opportunity.

“Xiaojun, what do you want of dinner?” Kun asks. “You haven’t said anything.” They’re all standing in the kitchen, back from dance practice and done with their schedules for the day. 

“I’m too tired to go out,” Dejun says instead. “I’m going to stay in, eat something here.” And there is Guanheng’s opportunity.

“Really?” Yangyang asks.

“I’m not even that hungry,” Dejun says.

“Okay, well, that doesn’t solve the issue,” Kun says. “Guanheng, do you want to settle between the three options?”

“Nah, I’m staying home too,” Guanheng says. Dejun gives him a look. “I’m not really hungry either, and Dejun owes me a movie night.”

“Should we not go out then?” Kun asks. 

“Nooo, we have nothing to eat here,” Yangyang says. 

“If they want to stay, that doesn’t mean we can’t go,” Sicheng says. 

“Exactly,” Guanheng says. “Go have fun.” He gives Kun a reassuring smile. Please leave and stay away for a long time, Guanheng thinks, hoping to will it into existence.

“If you two are sure,” Kun says. Dejun nods his head.

“So where are we going?” Yangyang asks.

“Hm, there’s no one to break the tie.”

“I’ll break it then,” Sicheng says. “Let’s go get barbecue.”

“Yes!” Yangyang says, practically bouncing in glee.

“Ugh, fine,” Kun says. “Be ready to go in five minutes.” With that, they disperse.

Guanheng and Dejun go back to their room. Once the door is closed, Guanheng casually asks, “what movie do you want to watch tonight?”

“You blindsided me,” Dejun says. “I have no idea.”

“Sorry,” Guanheng says. “Honestly I only decided after you said you were staying.”

“Why?”

“I want to spend time with you,” Guanheng says. Dejun stares at him, suspicious. “And you owe me a movie night.” 

“Okay, so what do you want to watch?”

“I dunno. I’ll figure it out.” He needs to find a movie that he doesn’t actually want to watch. Enacting his plan will keep him too preoccupied to pay attention.

“We can watch it after dinner,” Dejun says. “Okay?”

“Sure, what are we eating?” Guanheng asks.

“I don’t know. Yangyang insists we don’t have any food, but I’m pretty sure I can find something.”

After the others leave, Guanheng follows Dejun back to the kitchen. He searches through the fridge before pulling out a random assortment of food items. “You really are from Guangdong,” Guanheng jokes.

“It’s a good thing Kun isn’t here,” Dejun says and they both laugh. “Now, help me cook.”

“Just tell me what to do, Dakjeun.” Dejun’s eyes flit over to Guanheng when he switches languages, but he doesn’t say anything.

By the time they finish, Guanheng isn’t sure what they made, but it is edible. Guanheng searches for a movie to watch while they eat. “What were you planning on doing before I roped you into this?” Guanheng asks.

“I didn’t have anything in mind,” Dejun says. “And it is nice to spend time together; you aren’t that much of a burden.”

“Good to know,” Guanheng says. Dejun’s phone goes off and he checks it.

“Kun-ge said they’re going to catch a movie, since that’s what we’re doing. They’ll be home later.”

“Oh, cool.” Guanheng is secretly pleased. If they’re gone longer, then they have more time alone together. Guanheng scrolls through movie titles until his eyes settle on one he hasn’t seen in a while. It’s a risk, but it’s perfect. “I think I found a good movie. Let’s clean and then we can watch it.”

“Okay.”

It takes only a moment to finish cleaning. Anxiety is creeping in Guanheng’s veins as time draws closer to the commencing of his plan. Guanheng turns on the television, but he remains standing. He stalls with finding the movie, waiting for Dejun to finish and join him in the living room.

Eventually, Dejun comes and sits on the couch. “What did you decide on?” Dejun asks, watching Guanheng flip through applications. 

“An old Cantonese film,” Guanheng says. Dejun laughs at him. “For practice, of course.”

“Of course,” Dejun repeats. He has an easy smile on his face, and he looks so beautiful Guanheng’s heart skips a beat. Guanheng quickly adverts his attention back to the television.

“It should be here,” Guanheng says under his breath. 

Dejun reads the title softly, “ _Cheun Gwong Ja Sit_.” 

“That was correct,” Guanheng says. He presses a few buttons and the opening credits play. “There we go.”

He sets the remote down but remains standing. Dejun looks at him, an eyebrow raised. “It’s kinda cold in here,” Guanheng says. He makes a show of rubbing his upper arms. He’s wearing short sleeves and Dejun is wearing long sleeves, so hopefully Dejun doesn’t see through the lie.

“I guess so,” Dejun says. He turns his attention back to the screen, where the first scene is about to begin.

“I’m going to go find a blanket,” Guanheng says. He remembers the first scene most of all, and it’s probably best to leave Dejun to watch it on his own.

“’Kay.”

He goes to the hall closet where they keep the blankets. He stands there out of view from Dejun until he finds some composure. Guanheng has carefully been planning this night for days. He takes a deep breath and grabs a blanket. He returns to the couch.

“What did I miss?” Guanheng asks. Dejun is leaning against the armrest, posture rigid. His hands are folded in his lap, and his eyes are glued to the screen.

“Uh, what type of movie are we watching?” Dejun asks instead of answering the question. 

“A good one,” Guanheng says. “It’s one of the best Hong Kong films of the nineties.”

“It’s just…”

“Hey, we’re adults,” Guanheng says. “Or is this too mature for you?”

“I’m older than you,” Dejun says. “And it’s not about that, it’s about—what are you doing?”

Guanheng sits beside Dejun, completely ignoring the rest of the empty couch. He adjusts the blanket over them and curls into Dejun’s side. He shoves his hands under the blanket, searching until he finds Dejun’s hands, pressing his fingers against Dejun’s palms. “I’m cold,” Guanheng says. “And my hands are cold. Warm them up.”

Dejun doesn’t say anything. His muscles are tense, and his jaw is clenched. He holds Guanheng’s hands against his lower stomach. Guanheng wonders about the possibility of shifting his hands lower, but he doesn’t act on it. The film cuts to the next scene, and Dejun marginally relaxes. 

“I’ve never heard of this movie,” Dejun says once they’re a little bit into the film. He mostly relaxed now, even idly rubbing a thumb across the back of Guanheng’s hand.

“It’s because you’re from the mainland,” Guanheng says. Dejun rolls his eyes. “They probably banned it.”

“I can see why,” Dejun says. “Have you watched it before?”

“Yeah, when I was in high school. I watched it with a, uh, a friend.” Guanheng lets the implication stand. It would have been easy to not stutter, but Guanheng wants Dejun to wonder, to wonder if it was a ‘friend’ or a _friend_.

Dejun hums in response, wearing a perfect poker face. Guanheng fidgets until it seems reasonable to adjust the position. He manages it quick enough that Dejun can’t pull away. Guanheng sets Dejun’s arm across his lap, so his hand is on his outer thigh. Dejun does not move his hand, but he also does not allow it to grasp Guanheng or fall naturally against him. Guanheng holds onto Dejun’s other hand and leans against his shoulder more fully. 

He can smell Dejun’s cologne, a heady almond scent that Guanheng wishes he could taste. Dejun must have applied it freshly after showering. He is tense again, but Guanheng practically melts against him. He truthfully was a little chilled before; but now he’s warm all over, from the blanket or the close proximity, he doesn't know. Eventually, Dejun relaxes again, his hand now splayed across Guanheng’s thigh comfortably. 

Guanheng moves once more, pulling his hand from Dejun’s and placing his other one there. “Cold,” Guanheng mutters as an explanation. He puts the newly freed hand on top of Dejun’s thigh, fingertips barely touching the inner part.

“Your fingers aren’t even cold anymore,” Dejun grumbles. But he doesn’t push Guanheng away. Maybe, finally, he will understand what Guanheng is getting at. 

If he does, he doesn’t say anything. Even when they’re over halfway through the movie, Dejun does not move. Guanheng’s hand slips further up and around, so he’s is grasping his inner thigh, probably only a few centimeters away from touching his dick. But Dejun does not acknowledge it. He stares on and watches the drama. Guanheng tilts his head so his breath falls on Dejun’s ear. “So, do you enjoy it?”

“Yeah,” Dejun says, his tone wooden and flat.

“I meant the movie,” Guanheng says teasingly.

“That’s what I thought you meant,” Dejun says. It’s impossible to tell if Dejun simply did not get the second meaning or if he’s pretending. It looks like phase two is in order.

But before Guanheng can figure out the most natural way to go about it, Dejun stands. He pushes Guanheng away and pulls off the blanket. “Thirsty,” Dejun says in way of explanation. He leaves for the kitchen. Okay, no phase two. Maybe it’s time for phase three.

Dejun comes back after a moment. He sits on the far side of the couch, leaving a gulf between them. He folds a leg up on the couch, as if creating a barrier. Guanheng no longer sees the possibility of forcing any more cuddling. Alright, it’s definitely time for phrase three.

“Honestly, I’m getting tired,” Guanheng says. Guanheng stands and Dejun looks over at him, expression icy. “I think I’ll head to bed. The movie is almost done anyway.”

“Okay,” Dejun says, and nothing else. Guanheng doesn’t quite understand the sudden stand-offish demeanor, but he doesn’t think much of it. The seduction attempt will continue.

Guanheng stands and goes to their room. It’s getting late, and Dejun will probably also go to bed soon. At least, Guanheng is relying on that.

He leaves the door open behind him and takes his shirt off. He changes into more comfortable pants, so it looks like he is getting ready to sleep. But Guanheng also fixes his hair, adjusting it carefully so it looks perfectly messy and stylized. When he’s satisfied, he goes around and turns off all the lights except for the lamp in between their beds. Then he grabs a book and lounges on his bed, waiting for Dejun to come by.

His eyes scan across the page, but he doesn’t process the words. He can only think about Dejun. He should be coming in soon. The movie only had ten or fifteen minutes left on it. Guanheng hopes Dejun didn’t get distracted doing something, or Guanheng could be sitting here for a while and actually get cold.

Guanheng has half a mind to give up and go to sleep when Dejun finally comes in. He tries to remain causal, but he can’t help looking. Guanheng is taken aback by the anger on Dejun’s face.

“What’s wr—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dejun asks. Guanheng can only blink at him. He has never seen Dejun get angry. Sure, he gets frustrated easily, but it’s never anything serious. It’s never this.

“W-what…what do you mean?” Guanheng asks.

“You’ve been acting so weird!” Dejun runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots. “It’s like you’re teasing me or making fun of me. First you wouldn’t even look at me, and now you’re so fucking clingy.”

In all his planning to seduce Dejun, Guanheng never imagined he would get upset. The silence is tense, Dejun staring Guanheng down. What is he supposed to do now? Kissing Dejun right now seems inappropriate. Unless…

“I thought you wanted me to be clingy,” Guanheng says. He sets the book aside and stands languidly. Dejun stares at him, mouth set firm.

“Why would I want you to be clingy.” That fake tone colors his words again. Guanheng steps toward him, a teasing smile on his lips.

“Don’t you like it when I’m affectionate? When I touch you?” Dejun’s expression falters for a moment before turning stony again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dejun says. Guanheng walks closer, only a step away. Dejun has backed himself against the wall.

“I mean,” Guanheng says, leaning forward. “I thought you would want me to do all this. Or at least,” and Guanheng pauses for dramatic effect, “that’s what I thought after I heard you calling my name.”

Dejun presses himself further against the wall. He tries his hardest to seem unbothered and says, softly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dejun looks away from Guanheng, even as Guanheng leans closer so he can whisper against his ear.

“I’m talking about a couple weeks ago,” Guanheng says. “When you were showering, and I heard you moaning while you touched yourself.” Dejun has closed his eyes, and he looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. “I heard you say _Kunhang_.”

Dejun lets out a shaky breath, but he’s still tense. Guanheng chances to grab Dejun’s hands in his, and he inches closer. Dejun breathes quicker and Guanheng can taste it on his lips. A little bit further, and Guanheng might be able to kiss him.

“Dakjeun,” Guanheng breathes against his lips. “Can I…?” Dejun sucks in air, and it almost pulls Guanheng across the space. 

“ _Please_ ,” Dejun says. Even with permission, even with the desperation in his voice, Guanheng still moves slowly. 

And it’s so sweet when Guanheng finally brushes his lips against Dejun’s. The pace is stuttered and awkward, but Dejun moans into it. Their fingers interlock, and Guanheng slides their hands up the wall so they’re on either side of Dejun’s head, leaving space for Guanheng to press forward and feel the length of Dejun’s body against his. Dejun’s cologne wraps around him, the darker scents of orange chocolate coming out now. 

Guanheng releases his hands so he can grab Dejun by the waist, searching for a small amount of friction. Dejun’s breath catches, and Guanheng has to catch his lips again. Dejun’s hands fall, landing on Guanheng’s bare chest, chilled fingers pressing into warm skin.

“A-Jeun,” Guanheng says against his lips. Dejun still has his eyes closed. Guanheng cups Dejun’s face in his hands and rubs his thumbs across his cheekbones. “You’re so gorgeous.” Dejun shivers under his touch.

“This is a dream, or I have died,” Dejun says

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to die,” Guanheng says. “But if it feels like a dream, then it’s probably because you’re a dream.” Dejun lets out a breathy laugh.

Before he can retort, Guanheng kisses him again, hands back on his waist. He only kisses him for a moment, then he moves to kiss the corner of his mouth, then down to his jaw line and down to his neck. The response is immediate. Dejun’s hands slide up to grasp at his shoulders, and he moans.

The sounds he’s making are so good, and the way he’s arching his back is driving Guanheng crazy. Can he…? Yeah, probably. Guanheng moves his hands lower, grabbing at Dejun’s ass on the way. He grabs the back of his thighs and lifts him, using the wall as support.

Dejun is startled and Guanheng laughs at him. He adjusts his grip, and Dejun gasp at the friction. Dejun is already sweating, his hair sticking to his forehead. Guanheng would like to stay like this for a while, but it also might be nice to take off Dejun’s shirt. So he balances Dejun on his hips and shuffles over to Dejun’s bed. 

They end up falling less gracefully than Guanheng imagined, but it works. Dejun reaches out for him before Guanheng can settle over him. Guanheng grabs the back of his thigh and pulls it over his hip and Guanheng moans from how hard Dejun feels against him. 

“Fuck,” Guanheng says as Dejun rolls his hips.

“Kunhang, please,” Dejun whines. Guanheng changes his grip, so he can hold Dejun’s hips down. It has been far too long since he’s done this, and with Dejun looking like that—chest rising and falling rapidly, eyes scrunched shut and his lower lip pulled between his teeth, back arched, nails pressed into Guanheng’s skin—he won’t be able to last much longer. 

“Not so fast,” Guanheng says. Dejun whines again and tries to pull Guanheng closer. “Are you really that desperate?”

“Yes,” Dejun says with no shame. Guanheng laughs at him. He adjusts his position so he can pin Dejun’s hip down with his shin. Then he pushes up the hem of Dejun’s shirt, letting his blunt nails skate across his abdomen.

“We’re lucky no one is here right now,” Guanheng says. Dejun lifts himself up enough to get the shirt over his head. “Or everyone would get to hear you. Is it wrong that I want to be the only one hearing you like this?”

“You’re the only one,” Dejun says. His ears are red, whether from the words or the new exposure, Guanheng doesn’t know. Guanheng kisses his collar bone and settles back between Dejun’s legs, working his way down Dejun’s torso. “You’re the only one who can make me sound like this.”

“I thought you didn’t want to flatter me,” Guanheng says against his ribs. He looks long enough to see Dejun rolls his eyes. The gesture draws Guanheng back up to kiss his lips. “Though, I was wondering,” Guanheng says between kisses. “What exactly do you think about when you touch yourself?”

Dejun huffs out laughter, but it falls flat when he sees the sincerity reflected in Guanheng’s eyes. “You, of course,” Dejun says. “You already knew that.”

“Yeah, but I want to know what you’d like me to do,” Guanheng says. “What do you fantasize about?”

“Usually it’s just about kissing you,” Dejun admits. He’s wrapped his arms around Guanheng, hands tracing his spine up and down.

“And that’s enough?” 

“I mean, it’s usually something like this,” Dejun says. “If I’m going quick, thinking of kissing like this is enough to get off.”

“And if you’re taking your time?” Guanheng asks. He lets a hand migrate further down and play with the waistband of his jeans. He places a kiss right below Dejun’s ear and it makes him squirm. The smell of sweat has mixed with the cologne now, and Guanheng breathes it all in deeply.

“If…” Dejun sounds unfocused. His nails are pressed into Guanheng’s back. He swallows hard, and Guanheng can feel the muscles move under his lips. “If I have time, I think of you fucking me.”

“Like?”

“Do I have to spell it out?” Dejun asks, frustrated. 

“If you don’t mind,” Guanheng says. His thumb is rubbing circles around Dejun’s hip bone. 

“Fine,” Dejun says. “I think about… you fingering me, stretching me open. And then fucking me. Is that good enough?”

“More than good enough, A-Jeun,” Guanheng says. He gives him a quick kiss as praise. His fingers trace across the waistband, but they hesitate. “Are you clean?”

“Like infections? Yeah, I am,” Dejun says.

“You got checked after the last time you were with someone?”

“I’m clean,” Dejun says. 

“Okay, good. So am I,” Guanheng says. He unbuttons Dejun’s jeans and pulls them off, Dejun raising his hips so Guanheng has an easier time. “Condoms or no? I don’t have any.”

“I don’t have any either, but it’s fine.”

“Do you have lube?”

“Top drawer of the dresser,” Dejun says. “Back left corner.”

“Great.” Guanheng throws the jeans on the floor and stands. He rummages through the drawer until he finds the bottle. 

He turns back and sees Dejun watching him, his hand sliding up his inner thigh to palm his dick through his boxer briefs, a wet spot clearly visible. “Absolutely gorgeous,” Guanheng says under his breath. He tosses the bottle on the bed beside him and leans down to kiss Dejun. 

Dejun is so desperate, whining against his lips and pawing at his back, it takes all of Guanheng’s control to not finish him off right then and there instead of taking it slow. So Guanheng pulls away and shucks his joggers off. He made sure to put on the underwear that he knows makes his ass look good. He doesn’t mind at all how Dejun rakes his eyes over his body, appreciating every detail. “You’re so perfect, Kunhang,” Dejun says.

“Not as perfect as you,” Guanheng says, sitting between his legs again. The phrase earns him another eye roll, but all the sass leaves Dejun’s face when Guanheng kisses the inside of his thigh. He draws his nails against the underside of Dejun’s thigh and sucks on the skin softly. “Oh, sensitive,” Guanheng teases when Dejun arches his back and moans. 

“Kunhang, please fuck me,” Dejun begs. He reaches down to touch himself, but Guanheng pushes his hand away. He may as well end the foreplay now, if Dejun looks so close to the edge already. 

“Anything for you,” Guanheng says. He slips his fingers beneath the elastic, and he peels the underwear off. And finally, Guanheng sees his dick. 

He couldn’t bring himself to look there when he was watching him, but now Guanheng looks without reservation. He rubs his hands against Dejun’s thighs, damp with perspiration, while he looks, wondering if he could fit it in his mouth. Dejun breaks him from his thoughts with a soft groan. Guanheng will have to answer his question another day. 

He sits back and squeezes some lube onto his fingers. Guanheng warms the lube and says, “I haven’t done this in a while, so feel free to correct me.”

“As long as you touch me, I’ll be happy,” Dejun says. 

“You’re so impatient,” Guanheng says. 

“Because you take too long.”

“I thought this is what happened when we take our time,” Guanheng says. “Would you rather we just make-out, and then I leave you to finish yourself off?”

“Please don’t,” Dejun says, the desperation amplified.

“I would never do that to you, A-Jeun.” Guanheng braces himself over Dejun and slips a finger inside. It goes in easy enough, and Guanheng can’t help raising an eyebrow. “How often do you—”

“More often then I’m going to admit,” Dejun says. He shifts his hips down. “You can put another one in.” 

“Fuck, okay, wow.” He shouldn’t be so surprised now, after having caught him masturbating twice, but Guanheng still has trouble reconciling this Dejun with the innocent one he thought he knew. 

The second one is met with more resistance, but Dejun still makes those beautiful sounds. Guanheng is uncomfortably hard, but he forces himself to not go too fast. “That’s enough,” Dejun says.

“But I don’t want to hurt you,” Guanheng says. He does add a third, and it’s manageable, even though it makes Dejun’s legs shake and his head fall back onto the pillow.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Dejun insists. But Guanheng waits until he seems relaxed enough to pull out. 

Guanheng shimmies out of his underwear. The frigid air against his hot skin makes him hiss. “ _Tin’a_ , you really are perfect,” Dejun says. 

“Like what you see?” Guanheng asks while he spreads lube on his cock. After all the foreplay, it feels refreshing to touch himself, and seeing the look in Dejun’s eyes is only making Guanheng feel needier. 

“I do,” Dejun says, eyes dark with lust. 

“Fuck it,” Guanheng says under his breath. It’s mostly warm enough, it shouldn’t be too shocking to Dejun if he goes now.

He positions himself and Dejun wraps his arms around his torso again, pulling him closer. Guanheng takes a deep breath and pushes in. Dejun digs his nails into Guanheng’s back and moans. The pain is sharp, and Guanheng pushes further. Dejun makes no complaint, and Guanheng has bottomed out before he can even think about going slow.

Dejun whispers curses against Guanheng’s shoulder, and his legs are shaking again. “You’re so beautiful,” Guanheng says. He brushes Dejun’s bangs to the side and kisses his forehead. “So handsome. So gorgeous. It really must be a dream.”

“Kunhang, please,” Dejun says. Guanheng gently pulls out and pushes back in. Dejun’s thighs are pressed against either side of his hips. 

“Anything for you,” Guanheng says, picking up the pace. 

It takes all his willpower to not finish immediately, but Dejun feels so good. He’s not struggling alone, though, as Dejun looks as close to the edge as Guanheng feels. But everything is so perfect—from the sound of Dejun moaning his name, to the musky scent in the air, the burning scratch lines across his back, and the taste of Dejun’s mouth—he would hate for it to end too soon.

However, right after Guanheng takes it all in, Dejun comes, Guanheng’s name on his lips. It’s enough to push Guanheng over the edge too. He pulls out so most of the cum is shot on Dejun’s stomach. 

The room is quiet for a long time, their heavy breathing intermingling as the only sound. Dejun’s eyes are half-closed, and his expression is of pure bliss. Guanheng still sits between his legs, propping himself up with his arm behind him. He collects enough composure to lean down and kiss Dejun, slowly and sensually. Dejun’s movements are fatigued, but he kisses back without prompt. 

“Stay here,” Guanheng says, pulling away and standing. His whole body is sore as he walks to the bathroom. He grabs a towel and runs it under warm water. Guanheng rings it out and returns to the bed. 

Dejun’s gaze follows him lazily as Guanheng wipes the cum off. Then he folds the towel and draws it across Dejun’s skin, cleaning off the layer of sweat and relaxing his muscles. “Thank you, Kunhang,” Dejun says softly when Guanheng pulls away.

“It’s my pleasure,” Guanheng says. A smile pulls at Dejun’s lips.

Guanheng goes back to the bathroom. Normally, he would shower before going to bed, but he settles on wiping another wet towel across his body before throwing both towels in with the other dirty laundry. He’ll either shower tomorrow or skip it.

Dejun has rolled over to his side. Guanheng’s eyes go over the lines of his body, over his shoulder and down the dip in his waist. Dejun looks back at him, eyes beckoning Guanheng toward him. “Do you mind if I share your bed tonight?” Guanheng asks. 

“Haven’t you already?” Dejun asks back. But he adjusts the sheets over himself and holds them up for Guanheng to get under with him.

They settle under the blankets. Dejun reaches out shyly to pull Guanheng closer, so they’re mere inches away from each other, mouths sharing the air between them. Guanheng holds Dejun’s jaw in his palm and rubs his thumb across his cheekbone. “Beautiful,” he says under his breath. Dejun smiles briefly, before his expression turns sad. “What is it? What are you thinking about?”

“It’s just…” Dejun trails off and frowns. “This—did you sleep with me because you wanted to have sex, or did you sleep with me because you like me?” Guanheng can’t hide the surprise on his face.

“A-Jeun,” Guanheng says reproachfully. “Of course I like you. How could I not? You’re so kind and smart and talented—you also understand me, which is a feat in of itself. Sure, you’re hot, but that’s icing on the cake.” 

Dejun laughs softly. He grabs Guanheng’s hand and intertwines their fingers, resting together on the sheets. “Good.”

“Did you think I would fuck you like that if I didn’t have feelings for you?”

“I guess not,” Dejun says, smiling at Guanheng’s ridiculousness. “I don’t know, I suppose I just can’t believe it. And there probably was a part of me that was worried that my first time wouldn’t mean anything.”

“Wait, that was your first time?” Guanheng asks. Dejun’s cheeks are red, and he can only nod. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, since you’re the type to worry about it,” Dejun says. “And I trust you. Honestly, I’ve liked you for far too long to pass up whatever chance I got, even if it meant a one-time thing as my first time.”

“How long have you liked me?” Guanheng asks. Dejun thinks about it for a moment.

“A year maybe? It started off slow, and then I fell pretty hard,” Dejun says. “You?”

“Oh, it’s probably been like a week.”

“A week?”

“Well, it was a couple weeks ago that I heard you in the shower,” Guanheng says. “It kind of freaked me out, to be honest. But then sometime after that, a few days later, maybe—oh, it was the day the theaters were closed—I sort of walked in on you masturbating.” Dejun’s face goes white.

“Oh my god,” Dejun groans. “So when you came in—”

“Yeah, I had originally came in earlier, and I guess you didn’t hear me, but you did leave the door to our room open and you know. I couldn’t look away.” Guanheng frees his hand so he can stroke Dejun’s neck and then run his fingers down his back. “I started looking at you differently. In my attempt to seduce you, I acted clingy.”

“At least that explains that,” Dejun says. 

“Why did you get so mad?” Dejun laughs, embarrassed.

“It bothered me,” Dejun says. “Because it was how I wanted you to treat me, but only if we were dating. Like I said, I thought you were making fun of me, like you figured out I was gay or something. It kind of stung, since I didn’t think we would ever date.”

“A-Jeun, I’m sorry,” Guanheng says. Dejun laughs again.

“Kunhang, you can’t call me that when Yukhei comes back,” Dejun says. “Actually, don’t even call me that in front of Sicheng, either. He might recognize what it means.”

“So you don’t want to tell our members about this?” 

“Do you?”

“I don’t know. I guess not,” Guanheng says. “It could be messy.”

“Let’s not, then. At least for now,” Dejun says.

“For now,” Guanheng agrees. “Do any of the others know you’re gay?’

“Only my family knows,” Dejun says. “You?”

“My family knows, and then a couple of guys back home,” Guanheng says. “And Ten. He guessed it when we were rooming together.”

“A couple of guys back home? As in…?”

“Yeah,” Guanheng says. “I only dated one guy, but you know how it is when you’re young and curious. Friends will sometimes experiment with each other,” Guanheng says. He looks away from Dejun, instead focusing on how the sheets crease over his waist.

“I haven’t dated anyone,” Dejun says.

“Really? You hadn’t even dated anyone, and you were okay going straight to sex?”

“Virginity is a social construct,” Dejun says. “And I have kissed people before; I’m not completely inexperienced.”

“Okay, okay,” Guanheng says. “It is kinda strange that I didn’t even take you out to dinner before trying to have sex.” Dejun rolls his eyes. “So how about Thursday night? We can go get ice cream after practice or something.”

“You always want ice cream,” Dejun says. Guanheng gives him a shameless smile. “But ice cream sounds good.”

“Good,” Guanheng says back. 

Silence falls between them, and Guanheng reaches around to flick the light off. When his eyes adjust to the darkness, he sees Dejun has fallen asleep. Guanheng follows shortly after.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow I really should be studying for my finals.  
> Also, this is the single horniest thing I've ever written, so uh, I hope you enjoyed it?


End file.
